


Handbook in Mind

by AmateurScribes



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Death, Human shield, Hurt, Love Confessions, M/M, Prompt Fic, Time Travel Fix-It, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-24 01:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmateurScribes/pseuds/AmateurScribes
Summary: There are only so many ways to stop a paradox from happening. And sometimes the most unpredictable solution can be the worse.Much worse.





	Handbook in Mind

**Author's Note:**

> This one gave me a bit of trouble at first I will admit. But, I think I like the direction that I took it, so I hope you all enjoy it! I'm hoping to get ahead of the schedule tomorrow so that I can return to posting them early in the morning instead of late in the night.
> 
> For the duration of this event, all mistakes are my own.

Sarge used to make jokes a lot about using Grif as a human shield, even made multiple notes of it in the Red Team Handbook.

But there hasn't ever really been a moment where it's happened to Grif before.

And he's not so sure why this, in particular, is on his mind as he races down the hallway, trying to stop the others from causing a paradox.

Grif's worried that he's not gonna make it in time to warn them, and it's this fact that makes him run and push himself farther than he normally can do.

Even as he runs, he's not so sure about what he's supposed to do when he reaches them.

Should he yell out? What if they don't hear him- he's been with them long enough to know that they only hear what they want to hear.

If it came down to it, and he didn't have enough time to yell at them to stop, should he take action? Make sure that the timeline's preserved?

Could he even do that, if he really had to? Could he will it in himself to  _ shoot Wash- _ changing history only a little bit for the sake of the universe?

Grif's not a fan of shooting people, never has been, and that goes double for someone he considers a friend. 

So he really doesn't know what to do.

And that becomes especially troublesome when he sees them all set up in the distance, gun aimed and ready to fire.

He breaches past the entryway, and he follows their line of sight at the soldier who would end up shooting Wash.

Grif isn't sure how he sees it, how he knows just before it happens that Carolina's about to shoot.

But he does and he hurries forward, still as fast as he can go, and he isn't sure exactly where his feet are going to lead him.

Somehow beyond all odds, he made it just in the nick of time.

Just in time to shield the Blue soldier and take the shoot straight to the just, an inaudible crack sounding out in his head at the force that pushes him back. He stumbles a tad, and there's another shot in the background too-  _ Wash- _ but he's too busy crumpling to his knees to care.

Looking down he can see the cracks in his chest plate, just above his heart, and the blood that's draining out of it slowly. He's starting to feel cold, but he's not in immense and incredible pain so he'll take it.

There are hands on him, dragging him away and out of the opening, back towards the corridor that he was just in a moment ago.

"What do we do, what do we do- I-" someone's pacing around, a maroon blur as hands go up to cradle their head.

"Why would you do that," another voice is hissing, hands hovering over his armor drifting over to the clasps and debating whether to take it off or not. "Why would you  _ do that-" _

"Dex?" a voice whimpers at his side.

"Sarge get her out of here," the one hovering near snaps.

"What are you doing- hey let- let go of me! Don't drag me away!  _ Don't-" _ the voice gets fainter and fainter, sobs coming in between the words as they struggled.

"Why would you  _ do _ that," a new voice asks, confused beyond all belief, taking up position on his side now that it was open.

His vision is blurring, and he thinks he's seeing twice when he looks at the two similarly colored blue soldiers in front of him. 

Head getting light, he opens his mouth to answer but he can feel the blood spill out and trail down his chin.

Still, he has to try, he had something important to say before, hadn't he?

"Para- paradox," he gurgled on his own blood.

"What?" the maroon blur had stopped pacing, coming closer and kneeling down next to him. It's starting to get a little crowded, not that it really matters at this point.

But he remembers the color maroon, and memories of smiling at Simmons in the heat of Blood Gulch comes back to him.

Grif really should be focusing on relaying what was revealed to him by that maniac AI, but all he can manage to do is smile and Simmons, even if they other couldn't see it.

"Hi, Simmons," he manages to say, mouth still wet with blood.

"Hi, Grif," he whimpers. "Are you- that's a stupid question, you're obviously not ok. Stupid,  _ stupid-" _

"Not stupid," he disagrees. And he wants to say more, wants to elaborate but he really should save his breath. Didn't want to start a sentence and not finish it.

"What's this about a paradox?" the female copy-blue asks, and he'd try to remember his name but he thinks that he wouldn't be able to with the state that he's in.

"Can't," and he pauses because his thoughts were wandering from him. "Can't just... too many changes..."

"Too many changes to the time stream?" Simmons fills in for him, and that's the thing about good ol' reliable Simmons, he knows what Grif's thinking more than he does sometimes.

He goes to nod his head but it only tilts to the side, unable to support itself up anymore.

"Yeah," he mumbles.

"That's- why didn't you-" the male copy-blue sounds frustrated and angry but he doesn't know why. Maybe angry at him for getting in the way of their plan. "Why did you jump in front of the bullet like that?"

He doesn't know, it was just his instantaneous reaction, but he can't exactly make it seem thoughtless.

So he says, "Less... evidence," instead.

And after he says it, it checks out in his head. This doesn't even cause a change in the time stream- well, considering that he's bleeding out against the wall, it only changes a very small infinitesimal amount.

The bullet left the gun but it'll be leaving this time stream lodge inside of Grif's body. Or, at least, he thinks the bullet may be stuck somewhere inside of him. He has- he has a lot of body mass to go around after all, so it's probably cradled near one of his vital organs, it wouldn't surprise him one bit.

Grif doesn't even realize that he was drifting off until Simmons shakes him into awareness. His eyes don't snap open like they would have if he had been asleep. Instead, they stay half-lidded and drowsy.

He just really wants to sleep now. That's not bad, is it?

"Grif, I-" Simmons chokes on his words, and Grif suspects that he's crying underneath his helmet. "The- the last time I thought we were going to die- and it wasn't something sudden or- uh, that time when I thought we were going to get executed by firing squad- do you remember that?"

He remembers, if only faintly.

At the lack of a response, Simmons clears his throat, and says, "Well, I was going to tell you something that day- and I haven't really gotten a chance since, but- fuck it, Grif I love you. I love you so much so please, please don't fucking leave me."

Grif reaches out to grab Simmons' hand.

"At least back then we could have died together, but now you're going somewhere that I can't follow and-" he pulls Grif's hand up to his head as he rests his helmet against it, sobbing, "Please, I can't do this without you."

"It wasn't worth it, this wasn't fucking  _ worth it, _ Carolina," the male copy-blue is stressing towards the other.

"I can't even tell if you've already gone," Simmons continues to cry. "Please respond, just anything. I don't even care if you don't- if you don't-"

Tightening his fingers around Simmons' own, he tries his best to push out the words, "I love you too."

But instead, all he can manage is, "I... too."

That just makes Simmons sob even harder in anguish.

"Bring Kai over," the female speaks, helmet lowered to the ground in shame.

The figure who was dragged away returns followed closely by the one who did pulling. She too cries as hard, if not harder, than Simmons, and the big brother instincts that Grif's had all his life kicks in so he doesn't look at her.

She turns away from him to sob into her hands, and all he can think is  _ good. _ He doesn't want her to see him go like this.

There are a few others lingering in the back, not sure how to react to what's going on. And Grif wishes that he could explain more about what he was told, but he doesn't even think he can manage that even if he tried.

Someone else would figure it out anyway, Grif wasn't all that smart with things like this, to begin with.

So he just focuses on holding Simmons' hand and stares at him. He does this until he can't feel his fingers and lets them go limp, only held up by the maroon soldier's hands, and until his vision goes black.

Maybe Sarge would be proud of him, following the handbook, even if it was to save the life of a blue.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like sooner or later I'm gonna exhaust all the different ways seasons 15-17 could have gone, haha! Well, so long as it's fun!
> 
> If you'd like to contact me, you can find me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing).


End file.
